Society Girls: Matisse (3 page)

Kendrick

I shouldn’t be here, and not because I don’t
want a tattoo. I’m here for Matisse, and that’s probably the worst
reason. For both of us. She wants more than I can give, and I want
her more than my next breath. It’s a bad idea all around, but
obviously I’m a masochist because I’m standing here outside of Zane
Wilson’s tattoo shop, picking her up so we can study.

She’s corralled me into
helping her with science and anatomy, when I know she just wants to
study
my
anatomy.
And yeah, I want to run my hands over her body, too. Trace her
subtle curves—and
her
tattoos—with my hands, my mouth, my
tongue
. Any and all of that would be
bad, so I do what I’ve been doing for the past few months; take a
few deep breaths and think of my grandmother. It’s not scientific
or medically sound, but it works.

I open the door, and walk inside, trying not
to stare too hard at anything or anyone. I’m intrigued by the
notion of people thinking something—or someone—is so important that
they want to permanently mark their skin with it. I’m well aware
that many tribes in Africa incorporate tattoos into their customs,
but I grew up in the city. There are tattoo parlors there, but I
was never interested, because I’ve always had more pressing matters
to attend to.

“Doc!” Matisse yells, running over and
crushing me in a hug.

I’d be lying if I said my chest didn’t puff
up a little as the guys and girls around me look on in shock. This
woman throws off a “get the fuck away from me” vibe to most people,
while sending me a “fuck me now” vibe. It shouldn’t please me so
much, but damn if it doesn’t.

“Hello, Matisse,” I say, patting her back
and stepping away. “Are you ready?”

“I’m always ready for you.”

If the jaws in this place
weren’t already dropped, that right there did it. I want to pump my
fist in the air, but I can’t encourage this. I can’t
encourage
her
,
even if I want to. Which I do.

“Shall we go?”

“Let me just grab my purse.”

I join every other person
in the shop as we watch her swinging those damn hips of hers—no
doubt for my benefit—as she makes her way to the back of the shop.
Matisse is drop dead gorgeous, and so hot I’m always a little
afraid of being scorched when she touches me. Her black hair is
shorter in the back, with most of the front falling to her
collarbones. There are a few strands that are longer, grazing her
breasts, and those are the pieces that drive me wild. I want to
wrap those strands around my fist and…God, I have to stop this.
Stop thinking about her perfect little breasts, and her
barely-there hips that flow from her flat stomach. Or that piercing
above her lip. I want to suck on that piercing while I let my
tongue out to lick her bright red lips. No, no I don’t. I
can’t.

“Hey, Kendrick, what’s up?” Zane asks,
coming out from the back with a smirk on his face.

“You know, the same things.”

He looks down, and I fight the urge to cover
myself. My suit jacket is already doing that, so I know he’s just
messing with me. “I’m sure.”

“How’s your family? I heard Landon is in
high demand from the universities.”

“They’re good, and he’s getting crazy
offers. Who knew my kid would be a baseball phenom?”

“With you and Quinn as parents, how could he
be anything less than spectacular?” I ask, meaning every word.

Zane is extremely talented, and Quinn is a
much sought after fashion designer. Besides all that, they took
Landon in and raised him, even though he’s not theirs by blood.
They are two of the best people I know, and I know more than my
fair share of great ones. Just one of the perks of being the doctor
for a secret society of spies that works out of a charitable
foundation.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. Which is why
it makes my next question a little more awkward.”

“You can ask me anything, Zane. I may not
answer, but feel free to ask.”

He looks over his shoulder, before focusing
on me again. “What’s going on with you and Matisse? She’s a tough
chick, but I know she’s got it bad for you, and I don’t want to see
her hurt.”

“I’m just tutoring her.”

“You’re not interested in her?”

“I’d have to be blind, deaf, and incredibly
dumb not to be interested.”

“Then you need to go for
it. Go for
her
. I
haven’t met a single guy—or some married ones—who hasn’t hit on
her, and she doesn’t give them a second glance. Even the rock stars
and actors. She wants none of them. It’s all you.”

“It’s not appropriate. I work for the
Foundation, and she’s an intern.”

“Bullshit. You have no say in whether she
passes her training or not. If you want her, she’s yours, and I’d
say you’re a very lucky man.”

I look over his shoulder, and see Matisse
walking back towards us. She laughs at something one of the other
tattoo artists says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. The guy looks
like he won the lottery, but he didn’t. I did, and Zane’s right—I
need to turn in my winning ticket. All the reasons I have for
avoiding Matisse are valid, but we can be careful. We’ll have to be
careful, but I’m done fighting what I feel. I want the tattooed
girl in the loose tank top, cutoff shorts, and crazy boots, and
damn if I’m not going to finally have her.

* * *

Matisse

Kendrick looks different when I walk back
out. I can’t explain it, but I feel it in the way he looks at me.
When he holds his hand out to me, I stumble in my clunky boots,
causing him to catch me in his arms.

“How do you even walk in those?” he asks,
looking down at my flat heeled combat boots. They have a clear
section between my foot and the tread, filled with silk pink roses.
I can’t bend my foot as I walk, but they’re damn cute, and I love
them.

“Carefully,” I tell him with a smile. He’s
still holding onto my waist and I’m caressing his biceps as they
flex beneath his suit jacket and shirt.

He shakes his head. “I guess we can’t
walk.”

“Walk? Are we studying close by?”

“I was hoping we could grab dinner before
the studying,” he tells me, looking me in the eye.

I forget to breathe for a
moment, caught up in his gaze, and what I think was him asking me
on a
date
. “I can
walk wherever you want to take me.” That didn’t come out
desperate
at all,
but he knows I want him, so why should I pretend I
don’t?

“I heard you talking about that nacho place
the other day.”

“Nacho Daddy? You really want to go there?”
I ask, looking at him in his suit. He’s just a tad overdressed.

“Yes,” he says with a
chuckle. He lets go of me to pull off his jacket. After handing it
to me, he yanks off his tie, opens the top few buttons of his
shirt, and rolls up his sleeves. He has such nice forearms.
Very
nice forearms.
“Better?”

“Casual Kendrick is nice to see.”

“This isn’t casual. Casual is a t-shirt and
shorts.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“Maybe you will. First, may I feed you?”

“Yes,” I tell him, putting his jacket on
over my clothes instead of handing it back to him.

“It looks better on you,” he says, stuffing
his tie in his pocket, and taking my hand.

We walk out, ignoring
everyone who was not-so-subtle about their eavesdropping. I could
care less what they heard or saw. I’m going on a date with
Kendrick, and I wasn’t sure that would
ever
happen. Nothing’s going to stop
me from enjoying this night.

Kendrick keeps looking at me every few
seconds as well walk, and the look on his face makes it seem like
he can’t believe I’m here. He can’t believe he’s taking me to
dinner. I finally have enough, and pull him over to the outside of
one of the casinos here on Fremont Street. It’s loud, and there are
tourists everywhere, but none of that’s going to distract me.

“Let’s go back.”

“Back? Did you forget something?”

“Yeah. I forgot about you not wanting to
break your rules,” I say crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m not breaking my rules,
Matisse. I did what you suggested, and
changed
them.”

That’s sweet, and his damn African accent is
so fucking sexy. I ease my stance a little without even realizing
what I’m doing. “Then why are you looking at me like you can’t
believe this is happening?”

“I
can’t
believe it. I pushed you away
so many times, and I can’t believe you’re still here. That you
still want me. You could have any guy. Hell, those guys at the shop
were all eye-fucking you, even while I had you in my
arms.”

“There’s only one guy I want, and he’s
letting me wear his jacket, which means he’s mine.”

“I wasn’t aware of this custom,” he tells
me, raising one sexy eyebrow.

“It’s like people saying ‘I licked it first,
so it’s mine’. I happen to love fashion, so wearing your jacket
makes you mine.”

“As opposed to the licking.”

“I’m definitely not opposed to licking—or
being licked.”

“Noted.”

“Good talk, Doc. Let’s eat.”

We walk the couple of blocks to the
restaurant, and take a table in the bar, because the place is
pretty packed. Kendrick orders the Thai Chicken Nacho, and I get my
usual Spicy Shrimp Nacho. He surprises me by ordering a beer, while
I get a margarita.

“You’re just full of surprises tonight.”

“Have to keep you on your toes, Tees.”

My eyes widen at his nickname for me. My
friends call me “Teesy” but he’s always called me by my full name.
“No worries about that.”

We flirt through drinks and dinner, sharing
our nachos, and rubbing our legs against each other’s under the
table. I’m so hot for him, and I don’t know if I can walk all the
way back to his car without pulling him down a dark alley.
Luckily—or not—he’d actually parked close to the restaurant, and
walked to me. Very interesting, since I’m almost sure he wasn’t
going to ask me out when he first walked into the shop earlier. I
voice my suspicions as we walk to the parking garage, his arm
around my shoulders now, while mine is around his waist.

“I didn’t plan on asking you to dinner, but
I thought we might pick up something to take home while we
studied.”

Sounds logical, and Kendrick is nothing if
not logical. “What made you change your mind?”

“Zane. He pointed out some things I’d been
thinking myself, and it made me want to stop fighting what I feel
for you.”

“I’ll have to buy him lunch for the rest of
the year for that.”

He laughs out loud, a full body laugh, and I
melt a little more. “I’ll chip in.”

The ride home is quiet. I’m thinking about
how I want him to study me, and not help me study. I don’t know
what he’s thinking since, well, he’s not talking. I want to ask
him, but I also want to wait for him to make another move. His
first one was shockingly wonderful, and I feel like if I let him
make another one, I won’t be disappointed.

“Would you like to come to my apartment?” he
asks when we get into the elevator.

“Yes.”

“I’m warning you now…I want to explore your
beautiful body, not study figures on a page.”

“Double yes. Quadruple yes.
Not enough numbers in the universe,
yes
.”

“Oh God,” he says and then he’s on me.

His lips aren’t gentle, but they are as soft
as I’d always imagined they would be. He kisses me over and over
again, hard little kisses that take my breath away. When the doors
open on his floor, he lifts me up, urging me to wrap my legs around
his waist. No complaints here.

He fumbles for his doorknob as I lick and
suck on his neck. Giving up, he presses me against the door, and
finally gives me his tongue. Words aren’t necessary as we taste
each other. Kendrick has one hand in my hair, and one under my ass
as I unbutton his shirt and run my fingers through the chest hair I
encounter.

“Want you so much, Tees, so much,” he pants,
removing his mouth from mine to lick across my collarbone as I arch
into his prominent erection. “I licked you. You’re mine.”

“I am. Whenever and wherever you want me.
I’m yours.”

He takes my mouth again, pushing me into the
door and making it rattle. I love the hard feeling of it behind me
while I feel him hard beneath me. And then there’s no door, and
we’re about to fall, but I drop my legs and stand.

“Oh!” I hear from behind me, and turn to see
Waverly standing with her hand on the door.

“What are you doing here, Wave? Did
something happen?” Kendrick asks, letting go of me to cup her
face.

This isn’t awkward. I mean, we weren’t just
making out against the door while his “best friend” was inside,
wearing one of his shirts, and not much else. Yeah, it’s time for
me to go.

I shrug out of his jacket, letting it fall
to the floor as I turn and walk away. Kendrick remembers I’m there
and grabs my arm. “I’m sorry, but Waverly needs me right now. Can I
have a raincheck for tomorrow?”

“No, Kendrick,” I say, pulling my arm away,
“you cannot.”

“Matisse, please.”

“I won’t be the other woman. Ever.” Again. I
don’t say it, because he doesn’t need to know about my past, but I
promise it to myself. I won’t be that woman again.

I walk away with my heart
breaking, and like the last and only other time, it’s because the
guy already has someone. I honestly didn’t know last time, and
I
did
ask this
time, but I still feel dirty. I need a few showers, and a good cry,
and then I’ll move on, just like I did before.